No Such Thing
by Pooki Ze Great
Summary: Sirius and his father get into a bit of a fight over the company he keeps. Implied SiriusRemus slash. Don't like? Don't read. Flames are for marshmallows.


Title: "No Such Thing"  
  
Fandom: Harry Potter, Marauders' Era  
  
Pairing: Suggested Remus/Sirius  
  
Author: Pooki Ze Great  
  
Email: his_stupid_girl@hotmail.com  
  
Archive: Ask first  
  
Rating: PG? PG-13? I don't know. Bleh.  
  
Summary: Sirius and his father get into a bit of a fight over the company he keeps.  
  
Warnings: Implied slash, and insults to Rem .  
  
A/N: I just wrote this. Out of boredom. w00t. R&R please, because it makes me happy and full of happy happiness. Yep. Who should I dedicate this to? I wanna dedicate it to someone. I'll dedicate it to Nancy because she RPs as Sirius. Yes. Jolly good, then.  
  
bDisclaimer:/b Now now, if I owned this stuff, don't you think I'd have better things to do than spending my spare hours writing fan fiction?? Not to mention fi I owned it Sirius and Remus would have done more than "embrace like brothers..." *mumble grumble*  
  
**~***~**  
  
The rain continued.  
  
Sirius Black sat in the shelter of an umbrella, resolutely staring across the street while sitting in a lawn chair.  
  
Earlier, he and his father had had, oh a bit of a tiff, to put it politely.  
  
"WHAT IS YOUR PROBLEM?" Sirius had screamed, after his father had tutted in disgust at him as he sent off a letter to James.  
  
"What's my problem?" he'd repeatedly coldly. "What *is* my problem," he'd murmured, letting the words roll luxuriously across his lips. "I'd say," he'd said, turning around and looking coldly down at Sirius, sitting there at his desk. "My problem is most likely that my own son, my oldest son, my *firstborn*, is a disgrace to this family," he'd hissed.  
  
Sirius had rolled his eyes, then. Great, what was he a disgrace for, now?  
  
Seemingly reading his mind, his father had continued. "The company you keep... I've been told of them... A half-blood," he spat, "a pure-blood MUGGLE LOVER, and A WEREWOLF."  
  
Sirius paled, taken aback. "H-how..." he stuttered.  
  
"How?" his father laughed coldly, "I have my sources, boy." He'd shook his head. "A Black, a *Black* consorting with a werewolf? The family has never known such shame. A mindless creature of shadow and night is what you associate with, and-"  
  
Sirius had cut him off then. He'd broken the ink bottle he'd been holding, and he dropped the shards of glass onto the ground in a river of blood and black ink. He couldn't take it anymore. Peter he could stand being insulted. James, well it hurt, but he knew that James would have laughed in his fhather's face had he been there. But not Remus. He would not stand there and let his wonderful, sensitive, caring, well-meaning [gorgeous] (boy)friend be insulted like that. "HE IS NO SUCH THING," Sirius had roared, eyes narrowed and blazing with fury.  
  
His father had smiled coldly. "Really, now. Then," the smile grew, "pray tell, what *is* he?"  
  
Sirius' glare then would have caused many a person to wet themselves. "*There are no words which can define him,*" Sirius had hissed, "*but the one thing I know is that he is a million times better than you or any of your DISGUSTING little friends.*"  
  
And with that Sirius had turned on his heel and marched resolutely out of the house, he opened the door and stepped out into a sheet of pouring rain. A low growl sounded in the back of his throat and he ran into the middle of the street where he'd stolen the umbrella and lawn chair from a neighbour's lawn, although he had, admittedly, already been soaked to the core.  
  
"FINE," he heard his father's chilling voice yell out, "SIT OUT IN THE RAIN, AND BASK IN YOUR SHAME AND MISERY, BOY!"  
  
The slam of a door, and Sirius had been alone with his thoughts.  
  
'Poor Moony,' he'd thought. 'He's never done any harm... it's not like he *asked* to be bitten, and God knows he doesn't enjoy lycanthropy.'  
  
He shook his head now and angrily pawed at his face where a rogue tear had escaped his eye, trying to join its distant cousins pouring from the sky, no doubt.  
  
'You're fifteen years old, Padfoot,' he thought angrily. 'You can't let that stupid git get to you, anymore...' He sighed. Ever since he'd laid eyes on Remus when the tired-looking boy had sat down at Gryffindor table after a late Sorting in their second year (the year Dumbledore had became Headmaster), Sirius had felt a desperate, near-primal urge to protect him.  
  
Sirius' mind danced off to memories, first meetings, first words, first hugs, first kisses, first....  
  
And still, the rain continued. 


End file.
